


Mwg a Drychau

by NotInPublic



Series: Prompts [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 02:12:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7386589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotInPublic/pseuds/NotInPublic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Jon x Sansa- pretend relationship</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mwg a Drychau

**Author's Note:**

> Chronology and details are a little off here: Jon being named KitN comes later than in the show and they realise who his parents are before Dany reaches Westeros. I had fun with this, I hope you enjoy it too! All comments are welcome :)
> 
> Title means "smoke and mirrors" in Welsh.
> 
> Happy 4th of July everyone!

It had begun as a temporary measure. Mostly.

The day Lord Baelish made clear his motives towards Sansa in the Godswood of Winterfell, Jon had suggested that they spend more time together in order to deter him, and so it had begun. When they rode into the Wolfswood, they would ride together. When they ate, it would always be together. And as the deception continued- when they retired to their respective chambers, they would do so together. Slowly, their closeness was noted and Baelish had accepted that history was repeating itself; he withdrew.

However, when Jon had been crowned King in the North, it was expected that he would take a wife. Not wanting to participate in the pantomime wherein suitable maidens would be paraded before him like cattle, their “courtship” had continued. They were not the first Starks to court their own blood and surprisingly few of the northern lords spoke against their burgeoning union. Better one of their own than a southerner, most agreed. Those who did not had the common sense to voice such things in private.

Jon had said it was comforting to have Sansa by his side, to guide him through the intricate politics of ruling that he was never expected to learn as a bastard son, nor had he learnt later as Lord Commander. In turn, Sansa appreciated his trust in her judgement and the feeling that her future was somewhat under her control for the first time in her life.

As the moons passed, their love for one another as siblings grew from strength to strength. The air of propriety between a Lord and a Lady slowly dissolved into warm familiarity and from the outside, it looked to everyone as if they were falling more in love by the day.

When Jon was injured sparing, it was Sansa who dressed his wounds. When Sansa sewed, it was to Jon who her favors were given. And as Winterfell began to thrive again, it’s success was accredited to them both. To the public eye, they were the very image of betrothed highborn.

In private, however, it was a different matter entirely. Jon had taught Sansa basic self defense and Sansa had taught him the correct way to instruct servants without making them feel as such. They bickered often but never seriously. They played games and told stories but more than anything else, they laughed. They laughed until tears welled up in their eyes and their stomachs hurt. They reveled in one another’s company, in the safety it provided and the chance to remove their courtly masks and unwind. What had begun as a temporary measure had become comfortingly permanent and neither of them desired it to change.

When Bran had returned to Winterfell with news of Jon’s parentage, their deception had become a blessing. Whilst they had agreed to keep their newfound knowledge to themselves, it was a comfort that Sansa’s hand would secure his claim to the North, should the truth be discovered. They announced their plans to marry the next day.

Whilst the decision had been made quickly, it was discussed at great length. They had stayed up into the early hours of the morning talking about all possible eventualities. What if Jon’s true parentage was discovered? They would welcome the unknown Union of their houses and urge others to do the same. Jon had Stark blood in his veins regardless; it should change nothing.  
What would happen when they failed to produce an heir? Surely that would not be a problem for many years and when it did, neither had children from previous couplings, infertility would not be implausible.  
What if either of them found love someday? Both felt it improbable but should it happen, they agreed to cross that bridge when the time came. For now, all that mattered was keeping each other safe. After all, it would not be long now until news of Jon’s ascension reached King’s Landing and the knowledge of the Queen- if it had not already and who knew what battles would need to fought in the near future. There were more important dangers at hand but it made them feel better to know that they had one less worry to think about.

They were married beneath the weirwood at Winterfell. It was everything that was expected from a royal marriage, the lords of every northern house attended with their families, a fine feast was followed by many songs and the newly-married couple shone with happiness. Speeches were made, toasting their King’s prosperity and their Queen’s beauty and wine was drunk in vast quantities. When the night began to draw to a close and before they could be subjected to the ritual of a bedding ceremony, Jon lead Sansa quietly out of the hall and away from their guests.

When they entered the quiet corridor, Sansa took Jon’s hand and began to run, pulling him along with her as she laughed freely like a child.  
“Sansa!” Jon laughed along with her “slow down!”

“No! Race me!” She called back, letting go of his hand and running ahead of him, holding her skirts up so she didn’t fall, her hair flaring out behind her.

Jon was bewildered but played along with her game nonetheless. He tore after her along the corridors leading the the Lord’s chambers, their laughter bouncing off the walls in their wake.

When he slammed the door shut behind them, they were both gasping for breath. The bedroom had been discretely prepared for them by servants earlier in the evening and the candlelight dulled the warning glance Sansa shot at him now that they were alone. The laughter had disappeared from her face with the closing of the door.

Placing her mouth close to his ear, she whispered “the lords and ladies might assume we couldn’t control our need for one another a second longer, but the servants will be listening. Some will even think it their duty to know whether a marriage has been consummated or not. They will become curious if they think you haven’t bedded me and will want to know why. I think we put on enough of a show to prevent that for now but we have to be cautious.” She pulled away from him, giggling loudly.

Jon’s head span. How did she think of details like this? It constantly surprised him to discover the mistakes he might have made to reveal their secret if Sansa wasn’t there to reproach him. He gave her a swift agreeing nod before mirroring her laugh.

Sansa had learned enough during her time acting as Littlfinger’s bastard to know the importance of servants’ views. The lives of the lords and ladies they served could become gossip for even the most loyal of maids. She wanted their marriage to appear strong and built on love, like nothing could drive a wedge between them. True, many northerners were above such sentimental fancies but there was no such thing as too-strong a marriage between a King and Queen.

“Let me help you with that” Sansa offered as Jon walked behind the screen in the corner of the room to change into his nightclothes.

“And now you, my lovely wife. I wonder, will you be as beautiful as I’ve imagined?” Jon’s voice was honey-like as he came back into view but his eyes were full of apologies and his cheeks burned hot.

Sansa’s expression was appraising, looking on their conversation as a game as to avoid embarrassment- she was glad he was playing along. She giggled in response, trying to imagine how she would have acted if either of her wedding nights had been like this.

When she too had changed into her bed clothes behind the screen, they ran around the room, scattering their clothes with stifled laughs, making it look as though they had been passionately cast aside.

Jon realized that, amusingly, he was enjoying himself. What a strange turn his life had taken, not a year ago he believed he would never take a wife and yet here he was, married to his cousin who the word believed to be his sister and for whom he held no romantic feelings. It was even stranger to realize that he had no problems with it and was probably having more fun than many ‘real’ couples had on their wedding night.

“What do we do now?” He whispered to Sansa, whose grinning face turned thoughtful.

“Well thankfully, I’m not a maiden and won’t be expected to bleed, so that won’t be a problem” she replied matter-of-factly, nudging him mockingly when he looked sheepish. He had only ever lain with Ygritte, who was as far from being a maiden as Ghost was from being a lap dog.

“Right” he said, not knowing what the appropriate response was when the woman you had grown up with as a sister said such things to you “good.”

When their eyes met, a second of silence passed between them before they began to laugh impishly again. Jon found himself grateful for the time they had spent alone together so neither felt overly uncomfortable with the other in their bedclothes.

Sansa walked towards the bed, crawling beneath the furs “come husband” she commanded with an exaggerated motion to him.

With an equally exaggerated bow, he did as she ordered “as you wish, wife.” Thankfully, the bed was large enough that they each had enough room without being uncomfortably close. Sansa blew out the candle next to her and again, Jon followed her lead, throwing them into darkness.

“I don’t think we need to make any… Noises, do we?” he whispered his question in Sansa’s direction and thought he felt her relax slightly, although he could have imagined it.

“No” she agreed “I can’t imagine it would be a… Noisy affair” she finished, queuing a fresh round of stifled laughter. Jon wondered if mutual awkwardness was making them giddy. It wasn’t everyday that you discussed hypothetical coupling with your cousin, after all.

When silence settled between them again, he glanced in her direction, deciding to voice what had been passing through his mind all day.  
“I’m sorry that you couldn’t marry someone you love.” He felt her head turn towards him.

“Oh Jon” she sighed, “I could wait a whole lifetime to find someone I love and who loves me in return. Even then, I’d be hard pushed to find someone who is as kind to me as you are. I’d take a kind husband over a loving one any day.” She paused “besides, I do love you, in a way, and that’s more than many people get. I don’t regret marrying you in the slightest” Sansa finished, reaching out to take his hand. He squeezed hers in return.

“I’m glad” he replied “I don’t either.”

“That’s good” she said softly, not letting go of his hand “now, we should try to sleep.”

“Do you not think it might seem odd, if we fall asleep so early?”

“You think rather highly of the stamina of men, Jon” she replied and he could hear her grin, even in the darkness.

With a chuckle, he turned on his side and closed his eyes. “Very true” he couldn’t argue with her there.

Jon fell asleep with a smile on his face, thinking that whilst their marriage might not be conventional, it could never be called loveless and that was better than most. Sansa fell asleep thinking much the same thing.


End file.
